Blood thicker than water
by Ranekaera
Summary: Sequel to Snape's daughter. Saoirse goes home for the summer with her father and he teaches her how to survive, but she'll put the knowledge to better use then he hopes. A little AU, a bit of canon, DH SPOILERS CHAPTER 13 FINALLY UP!
1. Curses and jinxes

Hey, I figure my birthday's in four days, (I haven't gotten any mail yet... :'() and I already know the basic plot of book 7, so here it is. The much awaited (I hope) first chapter of my sequel for Snape's Daughter.

SUMMARY OF FIRST FIC: A new first yeear arrives, but she's older than any other student and Snape is her father. She attends Hogwarts while they learn to get along and at the end of the school year, Saoirse decides to stay with her father for the summer rather than go home to her mother.

p.s. I found an excellent English to Latin transator website, and all made up spells not appearing in the HP series were probably thought up by me :)

Sequel

Chapter one.

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"What happens if the Dark Lord calls you?" asked Saoirse on the evening after teh school holidays ended.

They were both seated in her father's private study, adjacent to the shabby living room and hidden behind a secret door. The walls were lined with row after row of books and there was a fireplace against the far wall, where several potion bottles sat on the mantle. Next to these, Saoirse saw, was the picture frame she'd given him for his birthday back in January. She smiled, remembering. It had been ust before Christmas, and she had taken a photo of them both before going off into Diagon Alley.

She sat in one armchair and he sat on the floor, amid a pile of scattered books on defensive dark spells. The one he was reading was titled "Fighting Dark with Dark; What to do when you're about to die".

He looked up at her question, looking, as always, surprised to see her still there.

"Stay in the house, of course. I'm looking up a few hexes for you to practice if you have need," he said quietly, his dark eyes scanning columns in the book. He brushed a strand of dark, greasy hair out of his face and tucked it behind his ear. (It was a habit he'd had since he was small, watching his mother read)

"Cool. Hey, what's this one do?" she asked, poiting to a handwritten spell in an old book. It read, in brackets, "evolo". Snape took her book and looked at it thoughtfully.

"I made this one up when I was about your age. It means to fly. I can fly without a broomstick, but this one might be difficult for you," he explained. Saoirse shivered slightly; she wasn't so sure she'd like that one too much; she was afraid of great heights.

Could I try making up a spell on my own?" she asked, closing the book.

Snape gave a twisted sort of snile.

"I don't see why not, although I don't think it will work. Be my guest," he invited.

Saoirse thought hard for a moment. She had noticed a lot of spells used were derived from latin, and she knew a little bit, mostly from her German classes in high school.

She raised her wand, pointed it at a random book on the floor, and said, "conscindo!"

The book tore itself to pieces before their very eyes, and Snape raised an eyebrow, surprised and impressed. She could make up her own spells on the spot.

Her father looked around the room, and spotted something on a shelf way up high.

"See if you can levitate that vial down here and create a spell to turn it solid," he challenged her. He seriously doubted she would be able to do this.

Saoirse concentrated on the proferred vial and it floated gently down to her. She set it before her and thought for a moment, casting her mind back wildly for anything that would help her.

"Silex mutatio," she muttered, so he wouldn't hear in case she did it wrong. The flask did nothing.

"Mutatio silex," she said a little louder, and the vial exploded in a shower of glass. The contents had turned to solid rock.

"Wow, I did it!" she said, impressed with herself. She lowered her wand and picked up the newly transformed potion. It certainly felt like rock.

"Where did you learn latin?" asked her father. Saoirse set the vial-shaped rock down and smiled proudly.

"I took two years of German in high school and we had to learn a lot of latin roots. Plus I had a friend who was in latin club," she replied, thinking of her high school friend, Tyler.

"Impressive. Alright..." he said. He got to his feet, straightened his robes and conjured a mouse out of nowhere.

"See what you can do with this," he said, just a hint of malice in his voice. Saoirse got the feeling he knew what he wanted her to do to it. She figured she may as well prove to him she could do Dark Magic, even though it wasn't a favorite of hers.

"Eviscero," she mutterd, pointing her wand at the mouse, and Snape dropped it just in time to avoid the explosion of blood and guts. She had eviscerated it. She knew there was a traditional curse to do it, but she had very rashly made up her own way and the result had been a little more violent than she remembered reading in textbooks. The mouse no longer resembled a mouse.

Her father Vanished the mess and smiled grimly at her.

"You truly have talent, Saoirse," he complimented her.

"Let's hope the Death Eaters don't come recruiting. You'll keep me a secret from them, right?" she asked nervously. She wanted nothing at all to do with the motley group.

"I shall certainly try," he assured her, and he conjured a plate of cookies and milk out of nowhere.

They sat and had their afternoon tea as father and daughter.

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"Morsus."

The rat squeaked in pain and ran around in circles, trying to examine its own bitten tail. Saoirse had hit it was a biting curse she'd made up. Depending on how large she imagined the fangs, the bite wound was deeper and bigger around. Her father had told her to practice on small animals just in case she had to defend herself against the Death Eaters attacks, although she didn;t see why she had to use such dark magic.

Her father handed her a piece of parchment, upon which was written words in latin.

"I am going to jinx the rat, and you must try to repel me using that countercurse," he instructed. They were in his back yard, fenced in and surrounded on all sides by creeping vines and weeds. No one could see them.

"Ok," she said, her wand at the ready.

"Commoveo," her father muttered.

The rat began to run around in ciurcles, eeking in pain and aggitation and Saoirse read the parchment. It was a sort of chant.

"Libero, redintegro, bestia, be. Set this animal before me free," she read aloud. She looked. The animal was still clearly in a lot of aggitation.

"Repeat them over and over again," he instructed.

"Libero, bestia, redintegro, bestia, libero bestia, redintegro bestia..." she repeated, and suddenly, her father's jinx started to weaken.

"Don't stop," he said, his wand and eyes fixed on the rat. Saoirse tried not to blink and kept muttering under her breath untiol the jinx was lifted completely.

"I'd say it's a start," he smiled, and Saoirse lowered her wand, smiling back.

Suddenly, without warning, her father turned his wand on her with a cry of "Imperio!"

Her mind went blank, and her father's voice said "kill the rat." He was trying to control her!

With a scream of rage, she wrenched her mind free and jinxed her father instead. He rolled on the ground, laughing (that would be a sight to behold, eh?); she had hit him with a tickling jinx. She lifted it immediately, sorry, and he stood up, brushing dirt off his robes and brushing his hair out of his face.

"Not one to be controlled, I see," he said, still smiling.

Saoirse glared defiantly at him, as if daring him to try it again. NO ONE controlled what she said or did. NO ONE.

And she told him so.

"I won't tolerate it," she said simply.

"Well, they'd have a hard time convincing you to do anything for them," he said.

"Damn right," she agreed, still glaring mutinously at the rat he'd told her to kill. She hated the idea of a man, or anyone, controlling her every move. She had endured too much of that as a child, and she was sick of taking orders. No one had the right to force her to do something. That right was hers and hers alone. Only SHE was going to live her life.

"Right," said Snape, glancing up at the evening sky. The blue was fading to a dusky pruple, which was fading to a twilight pink. Saoirse felt strangely at peace with the world.

"Shall we call it a day?" he asked, gesturing to the back door of the house.

"Sure," she said, marginally more cheerful, and they both went inside the house. As she went inside, she could be heard muttering under her breath, the incantation he'd taught her:

"Libero, bestia, redintegro, bestia, libero bestia, redintegro bestia..."

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Well, what do you think? Please review!!!!!


	2. Shopping, flirting and surprises, oh my

I had trouble thinking of one for this, but I got a good idea from felonusangel... thanks R!

P.S. thanks to Numairs-Magelet for helping me out with the au/canon thing, this story is an AU.

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It was a week into the summer holidays and Saoirse was getting into the routine.

She got up between 7 and 8 am and went downstairs and had a bowl of cold cereal (or, occasionaly, an omelet and toast) and then take a walk around the nearby wizarding town, Salazara. Without the snow, the town was beautiful. There were flowering trees on the sidewalks and the streets were entirely cobblestone. A few families were walking down said sidewalks and Saoirse couldn't help but stare on her walks. She had never seen witches and wizards so young before and she couldn't help but wonder if, had Snape stayed with her mother when she was a kid, would she be more knowledgable in magic?

These thought depressed her, so she had to remind herself again, that she couldn't change the past. What was done, was done. Meanwhile, she had a little pocket money left over from the Christmas holidays and she decided to go into the local clothing shop to check out some robes.

She walked into the store and a bell over the door jingled. There were racks and racks orf robes; day robes, night robes, bath robes, dress robes, even what looked like formal robes for weddings.

She was greeted rather enthusiasticaly by a man with shoulder length, curly blonde hair and dark blue eyes. He wore a set of plain black day robes, decorated with silver clasps not unlike the ones she wore on her trench coat. Looking at the lining she could see inside his sleeves, the lining was red satin decorated with skulls. She likes this guy's sense of style.

"Can I help you?" he asked. God, she loved the British accent. And what the hell was she thinking?!

"Uh, yeah. Where did you get those robes?" she asked, pointing to the skull lining of his.

The guy laughed and held out the flaps of his robes, examining them himself.

"Out back are where you can find the novelty robes, male and female, and uh... you can customize them however you want," he informed her.

"Novelty robes? Hmmm..." she said, more to herself than him. She could get to like this particular shop if it sold customizable, novelty robes.

She walked out to the back of the store, to where the guy had pointed and saw a medium-sized rack of robes of various colors. She saw one that immediately caught her eye.

They were robes of the deepest bloodred, with black trim on the bottoms and sleeves, pure silver skull-shaped clasps at the throat and breast, and zipper pockets.

The man suddenly apparated right next to her, making her jump, and he smiled when he saw the robes she was examining.

"Like'em?" he asked, smiling. His canines were strangely pointed, she noticed, and suddenly she didn't think he was so cute if he turned out to be a werewolf or something.

"Um, yeah. Hey, are you a werewolf, by any chance?" she asked out of the blue. Well, her friends always did say she had a knack for putting her foot in her mouth.

He laughed.

"Half. My father. But I'm not interested in the war, I prefer to watch and hope for the best. Safer," he said, chuckling at her straightforwardness.

"I know it," she agreed, rolling her eyes, although, secretly, she was on her father's side. Voldemort would have to be killed somehow, some way.

"Well, these are all on sale, if you want them," he said, examining the price tag.

She frowned slightly. She only had ten galleons left over from Christmas. She didn't shop all that much.

" 7 Galleons, 8 and a sickle for a custom job," he said, reading the tag. Saoirse looked as far over his shoulder as she could reach. The tag said 11 galleons, 13 for custom. She smiled, shaking her head.

"Hmm." she said, browsing through the rest of the robes, There was a set of midnight blue ones with flaming red orbs all over them, a set of acid green ones with black trim on the sleeves and chains connecting the pockets, even a set that resembled a straitjacket with black straps and silver clasps. She fingered one of the staps for a moment, suddenly indecisivve over the bloodred ones and the straitjacket ones. Finally, she decided on the bloodred ones.

"I'll take these, but... one thing," she said, holding them up. She fingered the black trim on the sleeves, liking the feel of it and looked at the sleeves and skirt of them. Both could use a bit of enlargement.

"I want to make the sleeves and skirt part more roomy," she said. The half werewolf took them, bowed and smiled flirtaciously. His pupils flashed momentarily yellow and he said, "I'll do as you wish, ma'am."

He motioned to a box and said for her to stand on them. She did so and allowed him to slip the robes over her head. Predictably, they were stretched taut over her chest, so that the clasps wouldn't meet. Figured. She hated being so disproportioned. She knew her measurements. 40 hips, 17 waist, 53 bust.

Just tell me when you want me to stop," he said, undoing the seams on her sleeves with his wand. She did so.

Twenty minutes later found Saoirse bowed out of the shop wearing new robes and clutching a slip of parchment with a phone number on it. The half werewolf had apparently taken a liking to her, and she'd been to astonished to refuse the number. She had to admit, he was cute, but she wasn't sure she wanted a relationship at the moment. She had problems of her own to deal with, for example, Dumbledore's homework for the summer. She had to control her anger and practice astral projecting.

She walked down the street, basking in the usual unusual England weather when from the corner of her eye, she saw something flash silver. She stopped and looked. It was a Patronus shaped like a deer. It walked up to her and bowed its head.

"What the-?" she muttered.

"Saoirse. Return home immediately. I have business to attend to. Dad," the doe said. It promptly vanished in a flash of white lights.

Standing there confused, she tried to remember what she'd read about Patronuses. They were mainly used to repel dementors and lethifolds, but could also be used as messengers and were somehow part of the owner. Her father's Patronus must be a doe, for reasons she didn't know or care.

But why on earth did he want her to go back to the house just to stay with Wormtail? He was quite a bit older than herself, and grubby though he was, she was pretty sure he could stay out of trouble for a few hours.

Resigning herself, she switched the shopping bag holding her hand-me-down robes from her father and Apparated back to Spinners End.

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She got back into the house and blinked momentarily. After the light of day, the gloom and dim lights of the house took a bit of adjusting. Her father stood there waiting for her.

"I have to go, the Dark Lord has called. I need you to stay here and guard the house. Wormtail and I have to go, I'm not sure for how long. Help yourself to whatever you like in the kitchen and just occupy yourself until we return," he instructed.

"But what do you think he'll want?" she asked. She didn't know much about the magical world, but she did know that she didn't trust the darkest wizard of all time. She just met her father. She didn't want him to die a useless death at the hands of that creep.

"I can't tell you that," he said sardonically. With that, he put a skull mask on so it hid his features and disappeared in a puff of black smoke. Womrtail waved, gave her the creepiest smile on earth and did the same, leaving her alone.

She stood there, not sure what to do at first and resigned herself to just sitting in a chair with a book for the next hour. She put it down after that. Her eyes were itchy and she was bored out of her mind.

"Maybe I'll practice my Animagusing," she said to herself. She tried to do it with her new robes on, and to her surprise, she did it perfectly. She loved being a tiger. She felt so powerful, and her senses were so much sharper. She was clumsy as a human girl, gracefull and beautiful as a big cat. She flicked her long, stripy tail and laye down on the floor. She sniffed. Ew. It smelled like something had been dumped on the carpet. She looked around interestedly, noticing details she hadn't noticed as a human. She licked her lips and felt her tongue ring. Open wounds were transferred between human and tiger, she supposed.

She was interruped in her mindless nothings by a loud knocking on the door. She growled loudly, and someone opened the door. How had they gotten past her father's ward spells???? Oh, _man_ she was in trouble. Well, at least she was a tiger. She wasn't totally powerless.

The man who walked in had long blonde hair and cold blue eyes. He wore a death eater mask, but at the sight of the house, took it off. He saw her. She growled.

"A pet tiger? How... exotic," said the man arrogantly. He smiled and Saoirse decided she didn't like him. She stod up on all fours, her tail twitching, always a danger sign. She growled, baring her fangs, and the man flinched and drew his wand.

Uh-oh. Here was the catch. She had to get this guy out without killing him and without getting killed.

"Nice, kitty, kitty kitty," he said quietly. "Oh? You know what this is, I presume? Then maybe you are no mere tiger..." he muttered to himself, lowering his wand ever so slightly. Saoirse saw her chance. It was now or never, and she had to make him think she was a true tiger.

She let loose a wall-shattering roar and lunged at the man, pushing him out the door and into the streets, covered in claw marks and bleeding. She sat there in the doorway and lowered her head, licking her paw as if nothing had happened.

"Ack," said the man, climbing to his elbows, spitting blood off his lower lip where one of her claws had grazed him.

He glared daggers at her and reached again for his wand. She roared again, louder than before, and was satisfied to see a dark stain spread on the seat of the man's pants. Inwardly, she laughed. She'd scared the piss out of him! Ha! Although now that she thought of it, her father would not be happy.

"Mark my words. I don't know who you are, but I assure you that I will find out. And when I do," said the man, standing up and straightening his robes, "I will make an end of you and finally get to Snape's book."

Snape's book? What on earth was this man talking about? She growled at him and narrowed her mismatched eyes and watched as the man Apparated away.

Satisfied, she transformed back, shut the door and sank down onto the threadbare couch.

She did not want to be the one to tell her father that some death eater was after something of his. He would tighten security tenfold and she wouldn't be able to go anywhere. She didn't want the death eaters to come recruiting, but she didn't want her freedom to roam jeapordized either.

After all, that was what Saoirse meant: freedom. And she intended to live up to that name.


	3. The fake journal

PLEASE READ AND REVIEW!! For my birthday today? Please? Review? This is going to be mostly going to be AU

Enjoy!

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Snape stood in the line of Death Eaters, hating the smell of the inside of his mask. It smelled like a mix of rubber and vomit. He tried not to grimace as the Dark Lord walked up and down their ranks.

"I should expect Lucius back from his... mission at any time now," he said. Even from a distance, Snape thought he could see up the Dark Lord's non-existent nose. It wasn't a very pretty sight, and he was double sure to shield his thought from him.

Just as he predicted, Lucius Malfoy Apparated back into their midst, his robes slashed and torn, his body bleeding, his lip split open, and he was out of breath. It looked as if a tiger or a bear had mauled him.

"What, pray tell, happened, Lucius?" said the Dark Lord in his darkest, silkiest voice.

The blonde main straightened himself out, and repaired his torn robes with a wave of his wand, disgust written on every inch of his face.

"I was ambushed, my lord. A tiger was guarding it," he hissed, a very ugly look on his face. Snape knew then what the Dark Lord had told Lucius to go and find. And where to find it.

Saoirse!

He tried not to betray his emotions, but it was too late. The Dark Lord stood before him in all his pale glory.

There was a space of time in which each stared at the other, both masking their thoughts. Snape knew what the Dark Lord was after, and why, but he would be a fool to tell him he was wrong. Snape would have to pay for the Dark Lord's mistake with his life and he knew it, but not just yet.

"I shall retrieve it for you, my lord," he offered. He reaslly had no choice in this matter. Not if he wanted to live.

"Indeed, Severus? Tell me. What would a tiger be doing at that... location?" he asked delicately. Snape had to tread very carefully around this one. He could _not_ expose his daughter. He _would _not.

"I have no idea, but believe you me, when I find out, it will be... taken care of," he said coldly.

"You will kill this... tiger? If indeed that is what it is?" asked the Dark Lord.

"Yes," he said without hesitation. He must not let the Dark Lord know he was lying.

"Then go. You are all dismissed. Wormtail, you ar to stay with me. I expect that book to be in my hands soon, Severus," warned the Dark Lord, and Severus lost no time whatsoever. He Apparated home to warn Saoirse.

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"Saoirse?" he called as soon as his feet his the cobblestone road.

He burst into his own home and found a few things in disarray. Saoirse the tiger sat on the floor in front of the coffee table, serenly and indifferently licking one of her massive, saucepan-sized paws. She looked up at him as he entered and seemed to smile with her heavily mismatched eyes.

"Transform back," he said quietly. She did, standing before him in robes of the deepest bloodred. He assumed she had wandered into a shop in nearby Salazara. The fastens on the front were pure silver skulls and he actually admired them. She had his good taste.

"Someone showed up after you left," she said immediately.

"I know. It was Malfoy sr. He was sent here by the Dark Lord to retrieve-"

"- a book?" she interrupted him. He stared at her with raised eyebrow.

"He said something to me about that. I guess he thought I wasn't a real tiger," she said, shrugging, and she picked up one of his books and began to read.

"This is not a game!" he hissed, truly angry with her for the first time.

She set down her book, and stared at him.

"I know it's not. I kept him out, didn't I?" she questioned.

"That is wholely besides the point, Saoirse! The Dark Lord wants that book, and what he wants, he usually gets! Do you think that if I were as flippant as you about the Dark Lord that I would still be standing here?" he argued with her. Why was she being so difficult?

"I have good reason to be flippant. I'm a tiger, remember?" she said, smirking. Severus' hand itched to slap her, but he knew that if he did that, he would lose her trust, perhaps forever. And he had so few people who trusted him at the moment.

"Listen to me," he said, his voice calm and low, but quivering with supressed frustration, "You must. Be. _Careful._ The Dark Lord will send more of his followers here to search for that book. You must not be seen. Protect it if you must, but stay out of sight. My life depends on it."

"What is this book?" she asked finally.

"A journal, of sorts. My time spent under Dumbledore, up until now. The Dark Lord thinks something, and he wants it to prove himself right. If he gets it, he will kill the son of the man you mauled. In so doing, he will also kill me. Do you understand?"

Saoirse nodded.

"You can be flippant about your own life, but please do not be flippant about mine," he reminded her. Saoirse nodded again and said, "I understand. I don't want to lose you, either."

Snape blinked. Had she just said what he thought she said? That she didn't want to lose him, either?

"Thank you," he said, another first. He had common manners, but thank you wasn't usually one of them. He was usually the go-for man. Could it be his daughter was starting to trust him as her father?

They both surveyed the damages. With a wave of his wand, Snape repaired the splintered door frame.

"Now. As for you being a tiger," he began. He had a thought. Sometimes, it was possible for a person to alter their Animagus form... very slightly. The only thing he need her to change was her eyes. They were too distinguishable, and if Malfoy had gotten a good look at them... it was too risky, especially after what he had foolishly promised the Dark Lord.

"Yes?" she asked, waiting for him.

"I need to teach you how to... alter... it. Your eyes are too noticeable, and Malfoy may have gotten a good look at them," he explained quietly.

"Why bother?" she asked curiously.

"Because I promised the Dark Lord I would kill the tiger," he said simply, smiling sardonically.

"Ah," she said, just as sarcastically, looking away purposefully.

"It's simple enough... all you have to do... is say one word, imagine the thing you wish to change about it, and transform as you normally would. It is not as easy as you think," he explained.

"What do I have to say?" she asked.

Snape thought a moment. It had been so long since he'd read that certain tidbit of information, he had to remember.

"Muto," he said finally, remembering it.

"Ok... hang on a sec... I'm gonna make it so no one will recognize me..." she muttered. She closed her eyes in concentration, muttered the word "muto," and she transformed. But it was slightly different. Her shaggy fur was turning orange versus white, and when she looked back at him as a fully grown female Siberian tiger, her eyes were the palest shade of blue.

"I am impressed," he said, smiling and truly proud of his daughter. She seemed to smile with her eyes and with her mouth, but tiger mouths were not made to smile unless it included bearing fangs. She transfomred back and smiled.

"So... tell me the whole story about this book, and why the Dark Lord wants it so badly," she said, sitting down. Snape sighed and thought there was nothing for it. He told her everything, about the Elder Wand, Dumbledore, Draco and his mother's Unbreakable Vow, and what Voldemort thought.

Saoirse looked thoughtful for a moment, and looked up at him with a fierce sort of determination in her eyes and face. It amazed him how much she looked both like him, and his father in that moment. It was the look he got whenever he shouted at his mother. But he already knew Saoirse was different. And with a jolt, he realized he loved her in some strange way, like a father and his daughter. He pondered that for a moment.

"So basically, the Dark Lord thinks that if he kills you, he'll get the Elder Wand? But it's actually Draco, not you?" she summed up.

"Correct," he affirmed.

"Hmm... so Lucius wants this journal for the Dark Lord... I have a plan," she said, rubbing her lower lip thoughtfully. She raised her wand, said, "accio dad's journal!" and his journal, bound in black leather, came soaring out from under the couch and into her hand.

"You mind?" she said, before opening it.

He waved his hand impatiently, as if saying, go wild.

She conjured a seemingly identical book out of nowhere and began copying each and every page down, in his handwriting. She was really very good, and he almost didn't want to know how she learned to forge people's handwriting so well. Like he always knew, she was talented.

"There. Now he can have it," she said simply, handing him the fake copy and smiling. She stowed the real journal back under the couch and sat there looking pleased. Snape opened the journal to the most important pages, towards the end. It read, in his handwriting,

_June 10, 1996..._

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HA HAA!!! Take that, Rita!! Just to get even for your evil cliffhanger!!

Please r&r everyone!! Happy birthday to me!!! Squee!!!!


	4. Unexpected visitor

At last, the solution to my evil cliffhanger... Please R&R Ok, I have it all figured out. Saoirse was born in 1976, so she's two years older than the trio in their sixth year and she was born when Snape was 16, old enough for a one night stand

Enjoy

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_June 10, 1996_

_It's two weeks until the end of school, which means I may have three months in which to bask in the knowledge that I no longer have to suffer under my idiot students._

_I write this in my darkened sitting room by the light of a candle. I always liked their light better than the Muggle thing called electricity. "Tamed lightning" wizards call it. Nature could not be tamed, only controlled._

_I think about Lily Potter, as usual. I nearly always am. I wish I had not said the things I did. But I cannot change the past._

_Draco's time is coming closer. He has almost manaaged to fix the broken Vanishing Cabinet, and as soon as the Death Eaters enter the school, it will be time for me to decide. Decided whether I wish to live or die._

_June 13, 1996_

_It is time. Even as I sit here in my office, I can hear the commotion upstairs. Very soon, I believe someone will try to fetch me, and it is with the greatest regret that I must stun them. I must follow Dumbledore's orders. I do not know what he thinks to gain by convincing the Elder Wand to choose Draco, and I think it will, after all, Dumbledore is the most powerful wizard since Merlin._

_It is time. Someone is coming. _

Snape stopped reading. That wasn't what his journal said... he had not written those last few lines like that. He understood what Saoirse was trying to do. She was trying to stop him from having to die. She just didn't realize that it might be necessary. Snape hastily pretended to move the hair out of his eyes, when reeally, he was removing the beginnings of tears.

"This won't work," he said quietly. He made to set fire to the journal, but Saoirse grabbed his wrist and stopped him.

"You never know. You might need it," she said cautiously.

Neither knew this, but they wouldn't. The fake would be totally forgotten in the midst of what was to happen to both of them, and by the time Saoirse realized it, it would be too late.

Snape stowed it on an end table and placed his wand back inside his robes.

More to change the subject than anything, Snape asked where she had been all that day, for now, it was approaching midnight.

"I took a walk around Salazara. Got these robes, and the shop owner or someone gave me a phone number. Said he was a half werewolf," she said nonchalantly, picking up a spiral notebook and doodling in it.

"Half werewolf? What did he look like? Was he... unkempt?" he asked, suddenly alert. What if the Dark Lord sent werewolves next?

"Young. Long curly blonde hair. Blue eyes. Skinny. He looked well fed and he didn't look very unkempt to me," she replied, still doodling.

Snape would never admit it to anyone, but he had a telephone and a computer in this house, from when he had lived here with his parents. Only thing was, neither worked because the electricity bill had long been shut off. His fridge and everything was run solely off magic.

Both of them sat there, she doodling, her thoughts shielded, he, in deep thought about this half werewolf. He didn't know any blonde ones, at least none matching her description. Perhaps he wasn't a wizard, merely a muggle who had been bitten and exposed to the magial world as an explanation...But no. That didn't sound right, either. While he thought, there came a knock on the door.

Snape got to his feet, and hissed at Saoirse to hide. She scrambled up siilent as a cat and edged into the hidden sitting room.

Snape cracked open the door a bit, just enough to see who it was. He knew only one person would call on him this late at night.

To his surprise, it was a blonde-haired, blue eyed teenager, about a foot taller than Saoirse, thing and gangly, with long hands and fingers. He wore muggle clothes that wouldn't have looked out of place at a rock concert. Snape knew this was the half werewolf of whom Saoirse tlaked. He felt suddenly like a father inspecting a suitor, and he immediately quashed that thought.

"Can I help you?"

"Yeah, hey, sorry for knocking so late. My name's Surka Drake. Have you seen a girl around  
? Long blue hair, red robes? She was in my shop today and left this," he said, and he reached inside his outer robe, the only one he wore over his muggle clothes, and withdrew a small photo, yellowed with age, and not moving. Snape opened the door all the way. Surka... it was eerily similar to the name of Saoirse's brother. Surk. But how many Surks could there be in one country? It wasn't a common plant, and it certainly wasn't a common name.

He tried employing Occlumencyt, and he got something strange... a muggle bus in a country lane, going much too fast, seen from behind a bush. The bus hit a black haired young man.

This werewolf, whoever he was, was not from England, and he had seen Saoirse's brother killed.


	5. Brotherly love

This one has a surprise!! Read, and you'll find out, cause I'm evil like that, insert evil laugh

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Snape decided to let the young man inside. He cautiously stepped inside, and Saoirse, curious, came out from her hiding spot. She saw the blonde young man and gave a tentative smile.

"Hey. What are you doing here?" she asked, sitting down on the couch next to her father. The man handed her the photograph, and Saoirse's reaction was immediate; her face fell and she withdrew a locket from under her robes and hastily stuck the photograph inside. Snape assumed the latch on it was broken and the photo inside had fallen out while she had changed robes in Salazara.

"Thank you," she said quietly. The bonde man said nothing, just smiled at the both of them. He unnerved Snape somewhat, and he stood up, his black robes swirling about him menacingly.

"Is that the only business you have here?" he asked quietly. The blonde man stood up as well and said ,"no, that was it. I just wanted to say hi."

Snape didn't notice it at all, but Saoirse did. As the half werewolf walked out, she saw him give her a very familiar smile, different from the one he'd given her in Salazara; and he winked.

She froze, eyes wide, her face draining of all color; she knew that furtive wink, too; the problem was, the person it reminded her of was dead.

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The man left in a hurry. He knew the girl had recognized his looks by the way he face had gone chalk white and the way she looked at him.

He could not and absolutely would not let her know who he really was. It was essential to his life that he not, but he'd also like to keep a close eye on her.

He Apparated back to his temporary shop in Salazara, and sat behind his desk, thinking and sifting through photographs. Most of them featured a black haired girl and boy laughing together, or else walking hand in hand. They were photos of himself... and his twin sister, Saoirse.

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SURPRISE!!!!!!! Please R&R and tell me what you think!! It's deeper than I'm letting on, I promise...


	6. Stalking the truth

Hahahaa, I KNEW you weren't expecting _that_, heheeh. This chapter is from Saoirse's POV

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Saoirse sat down heavily and extracted the tarnished photo rfom the heart-shaped locket round her neck. It was a moving photograph of her and her twin brother, Surka. They both were laughing silently and clutching each other around the neck in a fierce hug. It had been taken when they were about 13 and she'd worn it constantly around her neck ever since his death.

Thgat smile... and the wink he'd given her before walking out... they had been her brother's trademark expressions, and she definitly recognized the sneaky little wink; it was the look he'd given her whenever he had something up his sleeve.

A tear fell silently down one cheek, and she hastily wiped it. Her father chose that moment to give her a plate of sandwhiches and a glass of her favorite cocoa, and noticed the gesture.

"Something wrong?" he asked, raising one eyebrow. She looked up at him, smiled and took the proferred plate of food. They were turkey and cheese, her favorite. Snape, however, seemed to prefer tuna fish. They both ate in silence, sipping their drinks occasionaly.

"That guy... the half werewolf... I swear, he reminds me of my brother..." she muttered, almost uncertain whether she should tell him or not. What would he say?

"He told me his name was Surka Drake," said her father. She gagged on her bite of turkey and cheese and started to choke, her eyes watering. Her father calmly pointed his wand at her and said, "anapneo." Her airway was freed, but the need to cough, it seemed, had not. She coughed a few times and wiped her streaming eyes.

"Your brother?" he said, letting the sentence hang in the air. He'd stopped chewing for a moment, but after a few minutes, he resumed.

Saoirse knew it for a fact now. Drake had been the name her brother adopted when he didn't feel comfortable telling someone his true name. But she'd seen her brother get run down in the road by that bus! Seen the blood fly with her own eyes! How could she have mistaken that?!

She set her sandwhich down on the plate and finished off her drink. She'd lost her appetite.

"I'm going out," she said briskly, grabbing her thick, blood-red cloak. It was made of crushed velvet, and had no static electricity, so it didn't attract hair or anything. She'd made it herself.

"Salazara?" he guessed.

She didn't answer, only, "I need to get some air," and she headed down to the basement.

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She took the secret tunnel dug in the dirt of the basement. It 3was suported on all sides by wooden slats, and in one of the boards, she found a small carving, a heart with the initials s.s. + l.e. She assumed her father had done it many years before and thought nothing of it.

Sweating despite the cold and the late hour, she emerged from the tunnel in the backyard of a pub. She thought she was a block away from the slothing shop where she'd bought the robes earlier that day.

The stars were strill out and the half moon glowed with such an intense silver blue light that she had no trouble seeing where she was going. She didn't even know precisely what she thought she was doing, looking for a brother she knew to be dead. She had seen it, after all!

She came up on the shop, took her necklace off, stuck it in her pocvket, and silently transformed into the enormous white tiger. The night became bright as day and she could feel every change of the wind in her whiskers. She blinked in that catlike way and looked around, her ears cocked for every sound on the wind.

Quietly, and silent as a stalker, she crouched down low, because she was so large that she would show in the shop window. She poked her big furry head up and peered into the shop.

The entire shop was dark, flooded with shadows, except for one lone bulb towards the back.

She pawed the door, and to her surprise, it was unlocked. The bell over the door jingled, and she flinched inwardly; if he heard her, she was dead.

She padded behind a particularly thick rack of robes and peered out, sniffing the air. The person out back was most definitely male, and there was a hint of something... wrong about him. She'd never noticed in her human form because their smell was so much weaker.

She snuck behind the counter and stood there in plain sight, stock still so he wouldn't notice her. He was bent low over a desk in a back room, fiddling with papers. The rustling sound was loud in her ears, and she folded them back and lifted her upper lip away from her fangs.

"I thought I'd get through to you. You never were stupid, Saoirse," said the man, without looking up or giving any sign of recognition.

She growled softly, and stood up on all fours, her head lowered in a non-threatening position.

The man swung his chair in her direction, and she lifted her head and looked him straight in the eye.

He looked at his watch, calm despite being faced with a tiger of larger-than-usual proportions.

"About time," he muttered, and before her very eyes, he started to change. Not to the werewolf he claimed to be, but... to her brother.

He was older looking, his hair longer than she rememberd, almost waist-length, black and straight. His high cheeckbones set off his equally mismatched eyes and he had their father's hooked nose.

She sat back down on her haunches with a lazy thump, and transformed back into her usual self, bloodred robes and all. She couldn't beleive what she was seeing.

Surka Thorne Snape Mahar. Her twin brother, seemingly back from the dead.

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Hey, this'll be the last chappy for some time now, sorry, but I have a book to publish... sorry! I'll update as soon as I get a chance! In the meantime, please review!


	7. Surka's story

Hey, I just couldn't stay away, I would starve without your reviews!

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"Surka?" she said, mouth agape. He nodded and smiled, revealing normal teeth. He hadn't wanted to reveal himself to her, but seeing her again... the urge to do so had been strong, and he had always had a bit of a soft spot for his younger sister...even if it was by 2 minutes.

He got down off his stool and helped her up, and without warning, she punched him.

"Gah!" he grunted, his head snapping back on his neck, and he felt his nose bleed. His lip had split from the ring she always wore. She looked simultaneously angry, hurt and overjoyed.

"What the _hell_... how? I saw you die!" she accused angrily.

"Sit down, and I'll explain everything," he said, and he pointed his wand at his own nose and fixed it. He decided to wipe the blood off the easy way, with the back of his sleeve.

She sat down on the floor and waited.

"I'm... really a werewolf. I got a friend to fake my death and I hid behind a bush and watched. I had to make sure people thought I was really dead," he admitted.

"Surka, why didn't you tell anyone?! Mom wouldn't've kicked you out just for being bitten!" she exclaimed, and at that, Surka gave a very bitter laugh. He knew their mother, and thought Saoirse was quite wrong.

"Mom would've kicked you out just for using magic! Of course she would've kicked me out for being bitten! She would've accused me of pissing off the wrong people and all that! I thought you knew her!" he laughed.

"Mmm. But who took the bus for you?" she asked.

Surka smiled. She would never believe him if he told her. He'd had to Imperius the girl and in the end, she was quite useless. He'd hated to do it, but he'd known it must be done.

"Tia Cordilla," he said simply.

Saoirse stared at him with wide eyes. Tia had been the head cheerleader at their high school, fuzzy blonde, skinny and tall. Not to mention obnoxious and stuck up and spoiled. Nearly everyone had thought her the school slut, and not many liked her for her personality. . Plus, she had always bragged to anyone who would listen about how she was italian and she wanted a big, extravagant wedding and she was practically a fairy princess. It had been the dearest ambition of many, Saoirse included, to yank her silly little head back and slit her stupid throat, at least among their friends. \

Tia had had a way of making people feel bad about themselves, so Surka didn't feel much in the way of remorse. She HAD had a crush on him, after all, and might have done it herself if he had asked.

"You Imperiused her?" she guessed. Damn. He never had been a very good Occlumens, although he could do it if he tried. She had always been better than he was.

"Yeah... trust me, it was no big loss, and I bet her parents are much happier," he joked. His sister laughed, and he was hit with a pang of sadness. He hadn't known how much he would miss her until she was gone.

They stared at each other for awhile, until Saoire voiced the strangest question.

"Who bit you?"

Surka made a derisive noise in the back of his throat and rolled his eyes.

"Who knows? Personally, I don't care. I've been hiding these past few months, wondering where you had gone, and then I found the letter in the trash outside mom's place, saying you'd gone to Hogwarts, dads old school. So I came here and set up shop, so to speak. I've been Apparating to the nearby forest for the change lately, although I think there's a lot to be said for learning how to make a Wolfsbane potion," he explained thoughtfully.

Saoirse stood up, and she was just as he remembered her. Long, thick hair, pale skin and her typical go-to-hell expressions. Vaguely, he wondered if the Headmaster at her school would permit him to come as well.

"Where do you live?" she asked softly. Surka raised an eye and pointed to the room behind him. He'd thrown an old box spring and mattress together and made a few blankets, and voila! A bed right near his desk.

He'd made friends with the previous owner of the shop and said friend had left it to him in his will, for he'd been very old. Surka had always been the lucky one. Easier to make friends, got to live with relatives when things got rough. His sister had had it worse by far. There were years in his life when he couldn't remember Saoirse being there because their mother had sent her to some loony bin or other. He'd also heard that they'd tortured and mentally abused kids in their care, and he guessed his sister had seen some sort of hell she had no intention of sharing.

"Wouldn't you like to come back with dad and I?" she asked.

Surka cleared his throat. He was sure that if he was seen by his father, he would recognize him straight away. Not because of his hair, but because of his nose. He had plenty of the blonde hairs of the half werewolf back in Scotland and was sure no one here would recognize said Scot. He couldn't walk around as himself for too long or someone would surely make a connection. The Dark Lord was back and he didn't want the werewolves on his side to come recruiting.

He had been stealing newspapers out of trash cans and eavesdropping on conversations, both from muggles, wizards and the Death Eaters, and from what he'd learned since coming to England, things did not look good. He knew all about the Death Eater's plans. Their mouths were constantly open.

He told her all of it, all he knew, everything he'd been doing, and he even showed her a new trick or two he'd learned with a wand, including talking patronuses. His was a a Siberian tiger, one which had only changed after he left his family, and his beloved twin sister. Before, it had been a wolf.

She waved her wand and in one fluid motion, her Patronus appeared in the shape of a long, silvery bright, serpentine dragon with orb-like eyes and a vapid expression. It flapped its wings once and promptly vanished.

They stood looking at each other fro an indeterminate ammount of time, before Saoirse took his hand in hers and led him outside into the cool, early morning air. The sky was already becoming an indigo hue streaked with a blood red. Pretty soon, it would be pink and purple, fading away to a dazzling, opaline gray, or perhaps blue. Saoirse had to go back to their father's house.

"You're coming with me. He has to know," she said sternly. Surka stared at her and pulled his hand away.

"I can't. Let him think I'm dead! I can't go back there, he'll write to mum, and it'll be all over the news back home... forget it, I'm staying here," he argued. The look on his sister's face told him otherwise. He owed her, if not for lying to them all, than for letting her go through all the pain it entailed. He decided to go with her.

"Fine... but only because I like you," he joked, and he allowed her to take his long, thin pale hand in hers once more. She led him towards a nearby pub and let them both into the backyard through the unlocked gate. They walked down a set of eaerthen steps in the ground and before he knew it, they were both in some sort of underground tunnel. It was pitch black, and they both lit their wands with a lumos spell.

He found himself in some sort of dannk basement when they emerged and they both put out their wands; the lights weren't needed here.

"Daaad?" Saoirse called out. No answer. She waved her wand, muttered something, and her dragon patronus soared out through the basement and into the main house.

A second later, the thin, pale, hook-nosed man came down the stairs and looked from Saoirse, to Surka, and back to Saoirse again. He didn't seem surprised.

"Are there any more siblings I should know about, Saoirse?" he asked in a drawling voice and he made a beckoning gesture that told them both to follow him back up the stairs.

He followed their father up the stairs into a sort of rec room, with a dusty computer covered with a dust cloth and an old television set, also covered in dust.

It wasn't until they were back in the living room that he said, "sit" and all three of them took seats. Saoirse and Surka on the couch, their father in a chair.

"Explain," he said, staring at his son. Surka swallowed, and began his tale all over agan, faltering before he said the word "werewolf". Their father showed no emotion when he admitted what he was.

He finished, and by then, it was early morning. A sharp tapping on the window distracted them all, and Saoirse, more to get up and move around than anything, got up and let the owl in. It was carrying a letter addressed to Surka in green ink.

"Open it," said Snape, and Saoirse handed it to her brother. He opened it calmly and began to read aloud.

"Dear Mr. Snape,

I am pleased to inform you that you have been accepted to join your sister at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. I expect to see you next year with the rest of your family.

Sincerely,

Professor Dumbledore, Headmaster."

He folded the letter back up again, along with the list of things he would need and stuffed them all back into the envelope.

"I run the clothes shop in Salazara, I can pay my own way," he added hastily.

"Not a problem. I assume, then, that you have someplace to stay? And what are your intentions here in England anyway?" he asked, crossing one leg over the other and lounging back in his chair at his ease.

"I do have someplace to stay. As for my intentions... I plan to be a neutral and help you where I can," he replied. Saoirse smiled.

"Neutral it is. I am... proud of your sister. She is very powerful. Can I hope to see the same from you?" he asked.

Surka frowned; he hardly thought power was a reason to be proud, and power alone, but he may as well prove it.

He closed his eyes, and seperated his personality in the form of astral projecting. His wolf half from his human half. His wolf half growled dangerously, fangs bared, black fur bristled, and his human half waved a wand, and wolf and man were one again.

"Impressive. You can't control your wolf half, obviously," he assumed, his lip curling in a mocking smile. Surka glared at thin air and put his wand away.

"I have to go. Shop opens in fifteen," he muttered, and he left through the front door, not entirely sure if he even wanted to open shop today.

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Sorry for the abrupt end, but I was hungry and wanted to wrap it up so I could eat lunch. :D

PleaseR&R!!


	8. New teacher appointments and complaints

Hey, me again, new chapter update, thanks to all who reviewed!! (especially my newest friend, R- Felonusangel, you rock girl!) I've fast forwarded a bit, this contains some DH spoilers!!!

Enjoy

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The months progressed much too fast for Saoirse. She learned even more spells, jinxes and curses from her father, and of course taught them, in turn, to her brother. She ran wild with him during full moon as a tiger and played spy with her father, hidden in bushes, eavesdropping. She was the perfect nonentity, unknown by the Death Eaters, yet privvy to all their doings. She wrote regular letters to the Headmaster of Hogwarts, and sent several to her friends there, Luna Lovegood and Neville Longbottom. She'd even sent a couple to the Golden Trio, as her father bitterly referred to them as. They were nice enough to respond, but it seemed they were still a bit leery of her because of her father.

It was the day before the newest school year, and Saoirse got a surprise note from the school: she was being sent forward to sixth year automatically, while her brother was to be in fourth year. It seemed a lot was changing.

She went down to Diagon Alley with her brother, their pockets jangling with gold and silver, some of it borrowed from their father, most of it saved from Surka's shop. They were out shopping, excitement mounting. Both of them loved school, and they couldn't wait to start again at Hogwarts.

It was while they were refilling their stock of potions ingredients that they both ran into Harry Potter and his Weasley friend, along with Mrs. Weasley.

"Hi, Harry. Ron. Mrs. Weasley," greeted Saoirse, desperate to make friends with the lot. She just wanted so badly to make friends as easy as her brother did. She got lonely easily and she didn't think it was fair that people saw her for who her father was, not for who she was.

" Hey, Saoirse," greeted Ron and Mrs. Weasley looked at her kindly.

"I didn't know you had a boyfriend," said Harry, looking at Surka. He chuckled and said, "she's my twin sister."

Ron's mouth dropped a little and Harry Potter looked slightly surprised.

"Been sorted yet?" he asked him.

"No," they both said at once.

"They're just like Fred and George, finishing each other's sentences," said Mrs. Weasley, and she smiled at them both and went up to the counter and began ordering basic potion ingredients.

Ten minutes later, the Snape twins walked out of the shop carrying their ingredients, and they waited until the Weasleys and Harry Potter had walked away, before Surlka turned to his sister and said, "What do'ya think, Gryffindor?"

"You better not be. I'd hate to be seperated by house," she replied, and she walked right into the book shop without a second glance.

Giving her an interested look, he followed her in. Vaguely, he thought he really must ask her how she did her hair blue like that. Maybe she could do it for him.

He found her looking at advanced Transfiguration books and wondered why on earth she was taking advanced Tansfiguration. Maybe it was how she'd dyed her hair? He had to stop thinking like a muggle. He caught his reflection in a book called _the monster book of mirrors_ and stared at it for awhile.

He had his father's eye shape, but not the color. One was dark brown like his, the other a pale blue. His nose was slightly thinner than his father's but just as large and hooked and his hair was as thick as his sister's and fell to his waist in thick waves, as inky black as his father's. He pulled a face and looked away; it wasn't that he hated the way he looked; on the whole he thought he had moderate good looks like Saoirse. It was just he was nervous to show his face, so like his father's, in public for fear of what people would say.

"You want me to do your hair a different color," she guessed, her face stuck in a paving slab-sized volume.

"Yeah. Maybe bright Purple?" he replied, grinning evilly and remembering how much he'd wanted to do that in his muggle school.

She smirked and replaed the book back on its shelf. She waved her wand and he saw his hair change color out of the corner of his eye. It had turned bright violet. He checked it out in the _Monster book of mirrors_ once more and frowned. It made him look too pale.

"Bright green," he muttered, and she waved her wand once more and it was done. He checked his reflection again; much better. It had turned acid green.

"Thanks," he said, and she smiled and gave him an awkward side hug.

"No problem, bro," she said.

They continued their shopping, stopping in Knockturn alley only once, to look for some spiked bracelets. They found two and bought them.

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It was evening and they were in King's Cross Station.

"Man, they really use trains here, don't they?" he muttered. She nodded and led him to the barrier between platforms 9 and 10. Their father had dropped them off here and Apparated on to the castle grounds. Surka shifted uncomfortably; the skinny woman with the horse teeth who was with the Potter boy was glaring mutinously at him for some reason.

They went through the barrier and after shoving their luggage in the appropriate compartments, they boarded and began looking for seats.

They found one by the driver's compartment and settled themselves in, impatient for the bloody thing to start rolling.

While they waited, Saoirse took the time to show her brother how to transfigure things. They took it in turns turning each other's robes different colors, until Surka accidentaly turned her entire wardrobe into a curtain of mushrooms, and Saoirse fixed it with a look of utmost revulsion on her features.

"Sorry," he said sheepishly.

"S'alright," she replied imaptiently, and with that, the train started rolling.

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(A/N: The author got really lazy and decided to just skip on ahead to the sorting)

I'm starving, when the hell will this effing hat stop singing?" Surka complained to a first year with whom he was to be sorted with. The kid shrugged and looked at the older, biggger boy nervously; he had bright green hair and looked kind of scary.

"Snape-Mahar, Surka!" called McGonagall, and Surka stepped forward to allow her to place the stupid hat on his head. He noticed that there was a lot of muttering, particularly at the Gryffindor table.

"Plenty of courage... oh, my, yes, intelligent, and wise beyond your years... so where should I put you?" the hat muttered in his ear.

"I don't care, just put me somewhere so I can bloody eat," he muttered back and the hat chuckled.

"Cheeky," the hat replied.

"GRYFFINDOR!" it screamed, and Surka sat there stunned.

He took off the hat and went to sit down with the other Gryffindors, shooting uncertain glances in his sister's direction. She was biting her lip.

"Don't worry, we have a lot of classes double with the Slytherin's," said the black haired, bespecaled boy who Saoire told him was called Harry Potter.

"I dunno... I'm not used to this whole boarding school thing... maybe I could get permission to get into the Slytherin common room so I can hang with her some times?" he muttered, more to himself than anyone.

"Nah... I suppose you could try, if you wanna get detention," said another black haired boy whom he didn't recognize.

"Hey... who're the two new teachers?" asked the boy called Ron Weasley.

Surka knew very well who they were, and also why Dumbledore wasn't there. The old man had died of a curse from a ring and their father had been elected headmaster. The two new teachers weren't teachers at all, but Death Eaters. He glared at them from behind curtains of his acid green hair and spotted his father getting up to make a speech.

"I regret to inform you all that your previous headmaster has died over the summer from a cursed object. The Muggle Studies teacher has retired and will be filled Professor Carrow. Defense Against the Dark Arts will be taken by her brother, Professor Carrow. Eat," he announced. Theere was a lot of mutinous mutterings and quite a lot of astonished talk. Sheesh, they'd read about it in the papers, why was everyone acting all surprised?

"Who's Headmaster, then?" called a teenaged boy with red hair and a sarcastic expression.

"I have," replied Snape scathingly, and that shut everyone up. The plates filled up and they all began eating.

"So, are you Snape's kid, too?" asked the red haired boy who'd spoken.

"Mmm. Saoirse and me are twins," he replied, not looking at him but focusing instead on a plate of chops.

"Damn, who would ever have thought that old Snape had kids? That greasy git couldn't attract a shampoo bottle, let alone a woman," joked someone, Surka didn't know who. He reacted without thinking, and his wand was out before he knew what he was doing.

He set the kid's hair on fire.

"Damn" he mutterd, and he hastily shoved it in his pocket.

"Augumenti!" shouted a small third year, and the kid's hair was put out, sooty black and smoking. He looked furious, and looked wildly around for the culprit.

Surka coughed and began eating his chicken.

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Please R&R people! I live off your reviews like blood transfusions! Sorry, eheh, just a bit of lousy vampire humor, lol.


	9. the Three Broomsticks and the request

Hey, I just thought of a cool idea, something I might have done if I could hav gotten away with it... damn.

Please enjoy this, and review!

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Surka got the hang of things in the first couple of weeks. People all around him asked him loads of questions, about him, about his hot-tempered sister, about his father, and about the U.S. The only ones he had no problem answering were the ones about his mother's birth country.

He quickly made friends with the Weasley twins and Harry Potter. He had always made friends more easily than his sister, a fact that she hadn't missed.

Their first Hogsmeade weekend, Surka got their new headmaster to sign his permission form and he joined his twin on the trip, just him and her. They took a trip down to the shrieking shack and the joke shop, then settled for a firewisky in the Three Broomsticks.

"I love being able to drink here. We'd never have gotten away with it back home, mom would've killed us," he said, sipping his.

"Joined us, more like," Saoirse joked.

They laughed and Surka eyed the bartender, a skinny woman with flyaway mousy hair and sparkly high heels. Saoirse followed his gaze and raised an eyebrow.

"Madam Rosmerta? Yuo can do better than her, she's too old," she quipped, smirking in that way their father had of doing.

"Of course not. Actually, I was eyeing that Slytherin boy, Malfoy. What's he like?" Surka asked quietly. Saoirse glanced over and saw him with his head bowed towards his two cronies, Crabbe and Goyle. She frowned and returned her attention to her drink.

"Arrogant and preppy. Teacher's pet. Kinda snooty," she replied. Surka trusted his sister's judgement; her first impressions of people were usually right.

"I caught him outside that room Fred Weasley mentioned yesterday, the Room of Requirement," said Surka.

"Wish I could make friends that easily. All I have are that Ravenclaw girl and the Longbottom boy from Gryffindor," Saoirse replied.

"Neville? I heard of him from Harry Potter. Apparently, he has the worst memory of anyone living," Surka joked, sipping his drink.

"Hey, Snape," said a voice from behind him, and he jumped, inhaling about a quart of Firewhisky up his nose. He began gagging and choking, and Saoirse pointed her wand at him, muttered something, and the drink poured out his nose.

"Kind of reminds me of what Harry's dad used to call Professor Snape," said the voice, and Fred or George Weasley appeared, smiling as if he knew exactly how bad he had jumped Surka. Knowing the Weasley twin's reputations, he probably did.

"Please don't do that," he said irritably, wiping his nose with a napkin.

"What did Harry's dad used to call ours?" asked Saoirse suspiciously.

"Snivellus," said a disgusted voice from behind them all, and they all turned to see Professor Snape striding towards them.

"Well, THAT'S not very nice," said Saoirse conversationally, and she finished her Firewhisky and got up to return the glass.

"Hi, professor," said Fred cheerfully, and Snape resisted the urge to roll his eyes. He hated happy people, and he wasn't having a very good day. The Carrows were determined to torture someone soon. It was taking all his power to prevent them doing bodily harm to the students.

"I need to speak with you, Saoirse," he said, looking at his daughter as she sat back down.

"Sure," she said, and she got up and followed him out of the Three Broomsticks.

"Have you gotten your astral projecting down yet?" he asked her. She nodded uncertainly, and bit her lip. She closed her eyes, and her body went limp as her astral self poured out of her chest cavity with a flash of golden light. Two Saoirses stood before him now, one alert and awake, the other slack, head bowed.

Slowly she raised her head and moved her hair out of her face. The astral Saoirse had her true black hair.

Good. I need you to send your astral self to the castle whenever you are on break. I cannot handle the Carrows on my own, and their fforts to overthrow the mainstream cirriculum are most...taxing," he asked snidely, and the black-haired Saoirse nodded and blinked out of existence. Snape just hoped it was back up to the castle.

"I'm a bit... shaky without her... my other half," said the blue-haired Saoirse, and indeed, she did look a bit skittish without her confident, angry half.

"Just keep her under control," he reminded her, and she nodded and went back inside to the Three Broomsticks. Snape headed back up to the castle.

There would be nothing he could do to prevent her astral self from destroying the whole of Hogwarts; magic couldn't touch an astral form. And he could only hope that her astral self, her inner anger and determination, her inner confidence, wouldn't think too highly of herself and take on everyone and everything that opposed her.

His only comforting thought as he walked back up to the castle, was that if her other half did indeed ruin property and maim people, he could always make sure it didn't affect her grades.


	10. Bonding with daddy

Hey, I just got the best review ever from Brenda, it seems I've been neglecting Surka... well, here it is!

Enoy!

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Back up at the school, Surka could tell his sister was having a hard time controlling her astral half. Her face was paler than usual, her eyes were a bit glazed and her hands were shaking. He grabbed her hand to help steady it, and she smiled gratefully, the corners of ehr moth twitching slightly.

Ahead of them in the Great Hall, they could see her Astral self talking angrily to one of the Carrows.

"Ah, no, no!! Saoirse muttered under her breath, and Surka squeezed her hand, lending her his confidence.

Saoirse recalled her astral self, and ehr chest glowed gold before she was alright again.

"I've never done it for so long,... she gets stronger the longer I keep her out," he heard her whimper. He glared at his fther, who was at the headmaster's position at the table, and saw him give him a curious glance back. The Carrows were arguing amongst themselves now, he noticed.

"It's break now, why don't you go up and rest?" he told her gently, and he moved her hair out of her face and kissed her forehead, like he did when they had been small.

"Surkaaa..." she complained, but they both smiled, and she got the picture. She was still a bit shaky.

"Alright, I'll go... talk to dad while I'm gone," she said, and she turned and made her way out of the Great Hall.

Surka returned his gaze to the people there, and his father, and realized nearly half the school had just witnessed her recalling an astral version of herself, and him kissing her, and he blushed; while his sister was the younger, she had more confidence, more determination. He was in Gryffindor, yes, but he wasn't nearly as fearless as his younger sister.

He strode up the the Staff table and leaned towards his father, his waist-length black hair fallilng in rippling cold waves against the tablecloth.

"Yes?"

"Saoirse thought you and I should talk," he muttered so only he could hear. He looked into those dark eyes and felt only cold.

"I think it's in order. We can discuss things. Meet me at the Shrieking Shack," he said, an odd smile twist his lips, and Surka couldn't help but think he didn't like him as much as he loved Saoirse, but that was absurd. For once, _he_ wwas the one feeling insecure... it had always been Saoirse who needed standing up for, and the sudden switch in perdicaments left him quite dumbfounded.

"Fine," Surka said coldly, in a perfect imitation of his father, and he spun on his heel, his robes bvillowing about him, and headed off in the direction of the front doors.

He Imobilized the Whomping Willow and dashed into the secret opening beneath the roots, making his way up the tunnel and into the Shrieking Shack.

He decided to wait upstairs, unbeknownst to him, in the room that the supposed mass murderer Sirius Black had revealed Peter Pettigrew to Harry Potter and his friends. He didn't even know Harry Potter was associated with Remus Lupin. He'd only met the man through various streets, and one had recognized the other for what they were, and they had gone on their ways.

He didn't have long to wait before his father entered the room and leaned against a wall, his wand twirling idly between three fingers.

They looked at each other for a few moments, before one of them spoke.

"You feel I like your sister more than you?" Severus guessed.

"Yes," Surka muttered, and he glared at the floorboards as if wishing them a horrible death.

"You could never be more wrong, Surka," he said quietly, and then it was _him_ who wouldn't look at Surka.

Surka looked up at him as if someone had told him he'd just won the lottery.

"I heard you had died, and then you showed up on my doorstep pretending to be some blonde dunderhead, and then I figure out you had never died at all... you can understand why I've been a bit... difficult lately. Not to mention what would happen if the Death Eaters found out you were a werewolf. No doubt they would wonder why you hadn't joined them by now," his father explained.

"I would _never_ join them. Saoirse may like playing spy, but I'd rather help Harry Potter," he confessed, and he blushed and let his hair cover the color in his cheeks. He hadn't meant to say that much. It'd been on his mind for the past few days or so, but he was determined to help the boy if it meant werewolves could have a full pardon with the right safety measures, and he intended to let the whole wizarding world know that two werewolves had helped defeat the most evil wizard of all time. He stared at his father with the same, hard, blazing look Ginny Weasley sometimes got, and his father smiled at him.

"You really are my son, aren't you? Despite the fact that you are in Gryffindor," he said, and Surka _thought_ he was joking; it was hard to tell with someone like their father.

"I look a lot like you... but Saoirse has your temper, I was the one who held her back all the years growing up," Surka admitted. True, he got angry just like the next guy, but not often, and not as easily.

"Wrong. She and I get it from my father," he corrected him, putting as much hatred into the word as posible, and Surka knew he shouldn't press it.

So how am I like you?" asked Surka curiously. A thin, crooked smile twisted his pale, thin face at that, and he said, "we are both determined to help the same person for the same reason."

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Hope you liked it!!! The family gets closer after this chapter, and then it goes into a bit of canon!!

Please review!!


	11. A bit of canon

This chapter has a buit of canon, so if you haven't read DH, you should do so before reading this chapter.

Harry Potter has left with Ron and Hermione to go look for Horcruxes and the Snape twins aid their father in helping him. Both twins have one of the fake galleons from the DA

Enjoy

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"All students found to be violatin' school rules will report to me 'n' my sister," said the disembodied voice.

Nearly all the students in their classes heard him and Surka and Saoirse, who shared the same History of Magic class, looked up at it. It sounded like that bloke Carrow who taught "Defense" Against the Dark Arts.

Professor Binns merely went on about goblin wars.

"Your turn," said Surka, imagining only too well what the Carrows would do to miscreants at Hogwarts.

They had been taking turns taking notes while the other dozed. Surka's handwriting was legible, Saoirse's scribbly, but she knew he knew how to read it. It all worked out well.

At the end of the class, Surka borrowed his sister's schedule and saw they both had potions next.

"Excellent, another class together," he said to himself. He hated being away from his sister. He guessed it was a twin thing.

"Wonder what the Carrows do to rule breakers?" she said.

"Probably force them to regurgitate their internal organs, but what else is new?" Surka joked, and people around them gave them offended looks as they both laughed. They had always had a sick sense of humor.

"I heard they have Filch help them string kids up by their big toes from the dungeon ceilings, actually," said a passing fifth-year Slytherin, and Saoirse glared at his back.

"Don't like your fellow Slytherins?" Surka guessed.

"No. They're absolutely shallow," she replied.

"I sent a letter to Potter earlier this morning. He and that Granger girl and their friend Ron left school lastnight," Surka muttered in an undertone to his sister, and she stopped dead and gaped at him.

"Why didn't you tell me earlier?" she demanded.

"I knew you had other things on your mind... helping dad and all," he said, and indeed, he remembered her coming into the Gryffindor common room last night and he had been waiting for her. The Fat Lady had been nice enough to let him in to see his sister and she had one of the inside portraits keeping an eye on him.

She had looked very tired and extremely pale. He could only guess at the impossible tasks their father was being forced to accomplish.

"What did you write to him?" she asked, pulling him under cover of a nearby statue.

"I just wrote to tell them what was going on here, about the Carrows and everything... just keeping them up to date on You-know-who," he replied in an undertone so passerby wouldn't hear. She hastily cast their father's muffliato spell and they could talk freely.

"Did you tell them to stay away from the Order headquarters?" she asked. Snape had told them all about the Order of the Pheonix and advised Surka to muss himself up and infiltrate the werewolf ranks with Remus Lupin. They were a motley crew, filthy and smelly and hairy. Lupin was the only company he could tolerate without growling.

"I did, yeah, but I think they kinda had to, someone heard them say You-know-who's name," he replied back.

"Stupid of them... didn't anyone tell them it was taboo?" Saoirse asked, giving him a meaningfull look, and he smiled sheepishly. He'd kind of forgotten to tell them that. He'd been too busy being furious at one of the Carrows for threatening to string him up by his ankles and disembowel him. 

"Next time, remember. We want the Dark Lord dead, remember?" she reminded him needlessly.

They re-joined the throng of students hurrying to their next classes and made their way down to the potions classroom down in the dungeons.

Somehow, Surka thought, I'll help dad and Harry kill this asshole. Somehow.

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_Surka,_

_Thanks for your last letter, and thanks for filling us in on the goings on of Hogwarts. I'm not going to say everything in this letter, because someone might intercept it, even if you aren't afraid of being found out._

_We're no closer to finding the first Horcrux, but we have an idea of where it might be. Keep us posted._

_Harry, Ron and Hermione_

Surka read through the note again.

It was after lunch and they had one of their few breaks. Neville Longbottom had a few new gashes on his face for mouthing off. Saoirse came over and sat beside him at the Gryffindor table, ignoring the few dirty looks at a Slytherin sitting with the Gryffindors, and offered to help heal Nevill's face. He let her.

While she did that, Surka took the time to think how he should respond. He had an owl, of course. His name was Slash, after his favorite guitarist.

"What'cha thinking about?" asked Saoirse.

"This just came from Al," he said. They had agreed after Potions to call Harry "Al," after Al Capone, a.k.a. Scarface, so they didn't let the world and its cousin know they were in correspondence with Harry Potter.

She took the letter, scanned it and sighed.

"Bad news?" asked Neville.

"No, no... it's not bad, it's just our cousin from the States, he's having a rough time..." explained Saoire wearily, and she didn't finish the sentence.

She exchanged significant looks with her brother, and Neville was left to ponder the complications of the minds of twins.

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Sorry it's so short, and I kind of fast forwarded it in the beginning, Please review, flames welcome!!


	12. Christmas

Hey, look, I am SO SORRY for not paying attention to this in so long, but October is my busiest time of year, and Anyway, it's back to it! Please review!

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Neither of them received any more letters from the Golden Trio for the next month and a half. According to their father, however (he would not tell them his sources) they were currently in hiding at the Phoenix Headquarters. Surka only hoped that whatever they planned next, they wouldn't do anything stupid.

His classes were difficult, and he got the feeling his fellow Gryffindors (particularly the girls) were giggling behind his back whenever he walked hand in hand with his sister down the halls. They had always been close and after his supposed "death" he supposed they were closer than ever; she didn't want to lose him again.

It wasn't until the day before Christmas that they got another letter from them. It read,

_Surka, and Saoirse, if you're reading this,_

_Have any of you seen Luna? We've been to her father's house, to ask him about some things, and Luna wasn't there; apparently, she was kidnapped by the ministry. _

_We can't tell you where we are, obviously, but we've had another close shave and we're fine. Ron has left. Have you heard anything at all? _

_We thought since your dad's Headmaster now, he may have told you something about it._

_What's going on there at Hogwarts?_

_Harry, Herrmione_

"Here, you can use my quill," said Saoirse, handing it to him.

They were both at Breakfast, and everyone was on Holiday; they, a few other Slytherins, a few Hufflepuffs and only two other Gryffindors had chosen to stay behind, so the school seemed very empty.

Surka took the quill from her, pulled a spare bit of parchment towards him and hastily scribbled a note back.

_Harry, Hermione._

_Things at Hogwwarts haven't changed much; out dad isn't Headmaster her to help the Carrows torture everyone; he's here to protect the students of the school, and don't bother questioning; we saw it in his journal, he promised to Dumbledore.(A/N: There's the journal again!)_

_We haven't heard anything about Luna, but I think she may be at the Malfoy's; I heard from the Werewolf underground, because Fenrir can't keep his maw shut. It's where they're keeping Ollivander, too._

_Please keep us posted on things._

_Surka and Saoirse Snape Mahar_

He sent it with an owl that happened to be nearby and leaned back, sighing. He eyed the festoons of snow-covered holly and the festive Christmas wreaths and the golden Christmas trees around the Great Hall and gave a weary smile. He would be glad when this stupid war was over.

"Cheer up, it's Christmas, Surka. Want a cracker?" ssaid Saoirse. She offered him one end of it, and he pulled. There was a bang like a gunshot and they were both enveloped in a cloud of purple smoke. Out of the cracker, there had appeared a spiked, leather bracelet, a pointed wizard's hat and a Wizard's chessboard.

"Excellent, you can teach me how to play," Saoirse smiled, and Surka rolled his eyes.

He supposed he could forget about the war for one day. It was beginning to show. He decided to sit back and enjoy Christmas with the rest of his family; his sister and their father.

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The next morning, he was awoken by a house elf wearing the Hogwarts crest. It had enormous blue eyes and a long nose and when it spoke, he suposed it was female.

"Sir must wake up, sir must wake up, sir's sister says so!" she squealed, shaking him, and Surka rolled over and groaned. He sat up, scratching his smooth, hairless bare chest (he slept only in his shorts) and waved the house elf away.

"Thanks, er, whoever you are. Tell her I'll be there in a sec... um... you don't think you could give her this, do you?" he asked groggily, and he reached onto his bedside table and handed the elf a medium-sized gift wrapped haphazardly in green. He was rubbish at wrapping presents.

"Certainly, sir!" the elf squeaked, and she took the gift and disapparated with a loud crack.

He had bought her something from Knockturn alley, somethig he thought might really help her if ever she found herself face to face with a death eater. It was a golden pendant on a silver chain, set with an enormous old sapphire; with the necklace he had included somethign else; a human skull he had found in an obscure shop. He had cursed the necklace with an anti-dark spell; anyone meaning ill harm or bearing a dark mark who tried to grab her while wearing it would be repelled, and painfully so. As for the skull, he knew she simply liked dark, creepy stuff like that. His sister was creepy in some ways, yes; she was not, however, evil.

He climbed out of bed, the wintery sunshine falling on his pale face, and he brushed a lock of bright green hair out of his armpit so he could pull a shirt on. He decided to abstain fom robes today and simply decided on a plain black t-shirt with a skull on front and a pair of baggy black pants. He pulled on a simple, lightweight cloak, so no one could yell at him for being dressed like a muggle, and after stuffing his wand in his pocket, he ran a brush through his long hair and swept out of the Gryffindor common room with a flourish.

He headed for the Slytherin common room.

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He didn't run into anyone on his way to the dungeons.

He approached the stone wall that secreted the Slytherin common room, put one hand on it and said, "mudblood."

It opened for him, much like the brick wall in Diagon Alley, and he walked over what most other Gryffindors considered enemy lines.

The walls had lost none of their watery green and silver designs. The fireplace was brightly lit, the room was cleaned and he saw his sister right awway; she was seated in a stuffy green armchair close by the fireplace, a small pile of gifts at her feet. He joined her and made himself comfortable.

"Thanks for sending the elf along for me," he grunted, his tongue still thick and his mouth still dry from sleep.

"Here," she said simply, and she waved her wand and handed him the cup of warm peppermint tea that appeared. It was his favorite drink of choice in the morning and she knew it.

"Thanks," he mumbled, and he took a good, long sip. It went down his throat as easily as water and he smacked his lips as he set his cup down on a table nearby.

"Well? Aren't you going to open them?" he asked, waving a hand at her gifts.

"Your are here, too. I guess dad, or whoever sent most of them, didn't feel like making two elves make two trips," she said, and she waved her wand again and the pile of gifts split itself in two piles. He raised an eyebrow at the handwriting he saw on the nearest one. It was his mothers.

"You didn't tell mom I'm still alive?" he said incredulously, holding the parcel up to the light.

"No, dad did. He had to!" she said urgently at his outraged expression. In his anger, he looked much more like the wolf that he was inside. At least, his eyes definitely had a hellish gleam to them.

"I didn't want her to know! You know how she is!" he hissed, because at that moment, another Slytherin had came down from the dorms, a rather ugly girl with bobbed hair and bangs named Pansy.

"We'll talk about this later!" he hissed angrily, and he watched sulkily as she opened her gifts. Surprisingly, they both had received Weasley sweaters. Why on erth would Mrs. Weasley make them both sweaters when they weer the children of a supposed Death eater?

"Oh, Surk, I love it," she breathed as she opened his gift of necklace and skull.

"Don't mention it," he muttered, still annoyed that their father had told theirmother of his faked death.

What she would say when she discovered he had "convinced" an innocent muggle girl to take the fall for him, he did not like to think.

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Hey, christmas continued is next, my parents had to go to bed... I've been trying to convicne them to shove the computer into a common area, but no go. Ah well, review anyway!!!!


	13. NOTE FROM THE AUTHOR

Hey, sorry I haven't updated any of my HP stuff lately. I just got a new job, working retail and tis the season (although not ho ho ho). I've also recently been locked out of the computer until someone gets home, because my stepdad is a prick, so there's that as well. I've also been working on my pokemon fic, called "life is wonderful", so you may want to check it out, because Im really on a roll with it. So sorry I haven't showed lately, but meh... I've been busy lately. Ciao!


	14. A dismal christmas

Hey, I AM SO SORRY for being away all this time, I just got stuck! And I've been working on stories for my pokemon fics, so with that and being laid off from work, and getting hired at a different place, well, it's been a bit hellish so far.

Here's an update saying I'm sorry again, and please review!

PS. Hedwig didn't die

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After the present openeing was finished, he and Saoirse decided to slip on their Weasley sweaters under their robes (his had a skull on the front, hers, a snake) and head to the Great Hall.

He could tell his sister was in a cheerful mood, but he was still angry, both at his father and at their mother. She had sent him a huge box of sweets, including his favorite chocolate covered cherries.

He let her sit at the Gryffindor table with him and they waited for all the students to get down so they could eat.

"Where's Calico? She usually follows you around more than Mrs. Norris follows Filch," remarked Surk, simply to take his mind off his mother.

Saoirse turned in her seat and Surk noticed her pupils dilate as her eyes flashed milk white. Blinks later, they returned to their normal color. Calico came running int the Great Hall, tail held high, intent only on her mistress.

"You should really stop teleporting things like that, sis," he said, frowning. Saoirse laughed and scooped up her cat in her arms, stroking its patchy colored black and calico fur.

"It works, doesn't it?" she replied scathingly.

"Mao!" Calico meowed as if agreeing.

A small swarm of owls came soaring through the roof just then with the Christmas post. Among them they noticed a rather large snowy owl coming for the both of them. It was carrying a rather large parcel wrapped in indigo.

The owl stopped at their seat and shuffled closer to them, shoving the parcel at Surk in particular.

Just as curious to know what it was and who it was for as his sister, he pulled it towards him and read the label.

"To Surk and sister, from family?" he read aloud, puzzled.

"Open it!" Saoirse urged.

"What if it's from the Trio?" he qhispered. There were a few Gryffies nearby that were already throwing deeply disapproving looks at his sister in her slytherin robes.

"Who cares? Just do it," she replied, frowning, and Calico mewed in response, purring loudly as she pet her.

The owl took off and Surk ripped the paper off the parcel to reveal two seperate cardboard boxes, each one wrapped a second time, one in red, the other in green. He took that to mean the red was for him, in Gryffindor, the green for his sister, in Slytherin. HAPPY CHRISTMAS was spelled out in large block letters on both of them.

"Meet me in my office after the Feast, and you can bring the cat with you. I have no time for you to take it back to your dormitory," muttered a voice from behind them, and they both jumped and turned around. Their father stood behind them, staring ominously at Calico.

"Mew!" it meowed at him, batting at the ends of his long hair with one of her paws. Saoirse smiled warmly at the little cat but their father merely smirked, pet it lazily and walked away.

"Here. I think this one's for you," he said, handing the green box to her. She let the cat down on the table top, where she curled up and rested her tiny head on her furry paws.

He let her open hers first.

She took the top off the box and was surprised to see that it revealed nothing more than an old, wrinkled scrap of paper and what looked like a homemade pie. Surk smelled the warm, delicious scent of freshly baked blueberry even from where he sat.

"Kreacher must have made it," said Surk, smelling the pie and wishing the feast would hurry up and get here. The Great Hall was already almost full. They were all just waiting for their father to return from wherever it was he went.

Surk opened his own box and saw what looked like another homemade pie, this on smelling strongly of apple crisp and cinnamon, along with a second note, this one brand new.

Saoirse smoothed out hers first and read aloud in a hushed whisper.

Dear Padfoot, Thank you for Harry's birthday present! It was his favourite by far. One year old and already zooming around on a toy broomstick, he looked so pleased with himself. I'm enclosing a picture so you cna see. You know it only rises about two feet off the floor but he nearly killed the cat and he smashed a horrible vase Petunia sent me for Christmas (no complaints there). Of course, James thought it was so funny-"

Saoirse stopped reading and set it down. It was obviously very old, if it had been written when Harry Potter was a year old. Why had they sent it to them??

"Well, it is ripped in half, and dad IS suspected of murdering Dumbledore in the Order, maybe they think he has the ripped off piece and they want us to get it for them? Hang on, I have a note too," he said. He topok his, wiped a crumb of brown sugar from the pie off it and began to read his as well.

"Dear Surk and Saoirse if you're there.

We are still on the go, setting up enchantments and things, and we are no longer staying at the Headquarters, obviously, or this would have gotten there sooner. At the moment we're in the forest of Dean, and it's quite cold, but Harry had Kreacher send you some pies he baked himself, he's been ever so much kinder since we gave him Regulus's locket. Anyway, Harry found a half of a letter his mum wrote to Sirius Black when he was younger and thinks your dad has the other half, Could you try and get it back for us, or if you can't, could you let us know what it says? I wouldn't ask, normally, what with the ministry situation what it is, but we've hit dead ends no matter where we've gone, and we think it may help us.

Happy Christmas,

Hermione and Harry"

He set fire to it, to make sure no one read it, and sensing hers was far too precious, Saoirse tucked hers inside her robes.Now it looked as if all they had received were homemade pies from someone. They did look good. He levitated them out of their boxes and set them down on the table. He would share his with the rest of Gryffindor. What he wanted was the blueberry.

"Well, dad did say to see him in his office after the Feast. Shall we try then?" asked Saoirse.

Surk shrugged and began cutting a slice from the blueberry pie with his wand. It was still warm and the filling was gooey and smelled like heaven to his stomach. He began to eat with his fingers, dripping blueberry filling all over the table, staining his lips and fingers deep purple.

"Surk!" Saoirse tutted impatiently, but she was smiling. She cleaned the surface of the tablecloth with her wand and at that moment, their father returned to the Great Hall.

"Eat!" he called deeply. He looked peeved about something.

At his words, food appeared on all four tables and they all began piling their plates heavily with everything from baked turkey a delicious looking golden brown color to mashed potatoes floating in gravy. They both filled their plates with turkey, potatoes, corn, gravy, rolls, cranberry sauce, pie and chocolate mints.

While he stuffed his face, his sister fed bits of her turkey with Calico. Up at the staff table, all the teachers simply ate and refused to talk to one another. It seemed that what with the desperate situation, the ministry, the death eaters at Hogwarts and the dangers of being overheard by the wrong people, no one wanted to gossip.

"Hey. We're having a secret meeting in the Room of Requirement! Meet us there after the feast!" hissed a round faced boy with a Scottish accent.

"Can't, Neville. We have to meet our dad after the feast, but if it's anything to do with stopping the death eaters, me and my sister are both in," Surk hissed back.

Neville looked taken aback that they would go against what apepeared to be their father's true loyalty, but he said nothing on it.

After the feast was over, all the food except the pies they had been sent disappeared.

No one talked as the benches all scraped out and then in when they all got up to go, no one pulled any wizard crackers, no one said a word. The atmosphere was definitely solemn. The menacing hulked figures of the Carrows at the front of the hall made sure of it. Neville, Ginny Weasley, Surk, Saoirse and quite a few other Gyrffindors all glared at them with looks of pure loathing, but did nothing for the moment.

They headed to their father's office located in the dungeons. All in all, it was definitely not one of their most memorable holidays.

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